Page 65 of The Ascended
But he didn't budge, he simply looked down at me with satisfaction.
"Perhaps," he echoed, eyes boring into mine for a beat longer before he moved, returning to his measurements. I let out a quiet, low exhale, trying to cool my flushed cheeks.
“You know, most mortals would cower being that close to me,” he said. “I find your indifference intriguing.”
I opened my mouth to speak but caught myself. Was all of this some kind of test I couldn’t comprehend? Was he baiting me?
Xül picked up the crucible, and I remembered where we were—what we were doing. "Now we heat this." His voice had drifted back to that calculated tone, as if the last few minutes were already forgotten.
“For how long?” I managed, still shaking off nerves.
He gestured to what looked like a miniature forge, its flames burning without any visible fuel. "Until it reaches exactly the right color."
"Which is?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair.
He cocked his head to the side. "You'll know when yousee it."
The mixture began to glow as heat built beneath it. First orange, then yellow.
"There." Xül removed the crucible from the flame. "Now we wait for it to cool."
"How long does it take?" I asked.
"Long enough for a drink." Xül moved to a sitting area where leather chairs were arranged around a low table.
He poured two glasses of sparkling, fizzing liquid—handing one to me before settling into his chair.
"So," he said, taking a sip. "Tell me about your life before all this."
The question caught me off guard. In all our interactions, he'd never shown the slightest interest in my past. "What do you want to know?"
"Anything. Everything." He leaned back in his chair, and for once his full attention was focused on me rather than a book or some dismissive comment. "You're from the coast."
"Saltcrest. Oyster-farming village." I sipped my drink—it made my tongue tingle pleasantly. "We fished, dove for pearls, sold whatever we could catch at market. My brother and I worked the beds together most days."
"You and Thatcher are close."
"We're twins. We've never been apart for more than a day or two." The admission made my chest ache. "I worry about him."
"Why? He killed a Legend during the Proving. I'd say he can handle himself."
"That's exactly why I worry." I stared into my glass, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. "That power... it came from nowhere. He'd never shown any abilities before that moment. What if he can't control it?"
Xül was quiet for a moment, tipping his glass back and finishing in one long swig. "I wouldn't worry. Chavore is annoying, but not completely dull. He'll ensure your brother learns control."
"You were forced into the Trials too," I said, the words slipping out before I really knew what I was saying.
"In a manner of speaking." He met my eyes. "Though I suspect my circumstances were considerably more comfortable than yours."
"Probably." I admitted, my heart sinking as I thought back to those final moments in the cave. “How old were you when you entered the Trials?”
He glanced over at me, eyebrow quirking. “Twenty-five.”
I nodded, looking away. Twenty-five. He’d had ten years of immortality since then. "Did you want to ascend?"
"Of course I did." Xül's voice was quiet. "I'd always thought I'd be able to do it on my own terms. Sometimes we don't get to choose our path."
"And sometimes the path chooses us." I finished my drink, feeling my body relax into the chair. "Did you feel like it changed you—like it changed something inside you fundamentally?" I found myself asking, even though I suspected I already knew. He'd shown me what ascension had cost him the day he summoned Thatcher's double—whatever mortality he'd once possessed had been carved away, leaving this cold, calculating shell.
